


The Barista, the Asshole, and the Retiree

by BertholdvonMoosburg



Series: Breaking the Ice [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Autism, Autistic Victor Nikiforov, Canon Compliant, Coffee Shops, College Student Katsuki Yuuri, Crossdressing, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Identity Reveal, Knitting, M/M, POV Outsider, Retirement, SkyGem Retirement Challenge, Supportive Katsuki Yuuri, Victor is high, Victor's Backstory, Yuri!!! on Ice Shit Bang, Yuri!!! on Ice Shit Bang 2017, college student Yuri Plisetski, service dog, some of it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BertholdvonMoosburg/pseuds/BertholdvonMoosburg
Summary: Thank you to everyone who has shown love to the previous fics in this series. If you, like me, wondered what Victor was up to this whole time, this is for you. It's a bit different, but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.Art will be added shortly when my astonishingly patient artist has a moment.





	The Barista, the Asshole, and the Retiree

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has shown love to the previous fics in this series. If you, like me, wondered what Victor was up to this whole time, this is for you. It's a bit different, but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
> 
> Art will be added shortly when my astonishingly patient artist has a moment.

Kathleen watched from her stool as the trio walked into the library. The shortest of them, a young Asian man, approached the information desk and held a brief conversation. Returning to the others, he pulled out a phone and began tapping at it, finally smiling in satisfaction. He gestured to the other two, and they walked in the direction of the cafe Kathleen was currently manning.

They approached the counter. The Asian man was arguing with the tallest of the three, an elegantly dressed man with silver hair and shockingly blue eyes. “... free,” she heard him say. “We’ve moved, Vitya, not just come to visit. We need to get local phone numbers and plans. In the meantime, the wifi here doesn’t cost anything. Hi,” he said, turning to Kathleen. “Can we get two regular cappuccinos, dark roast Sumatran, extra foam, and a black Americano?”

“Sure,” she chirped, inwardly cringing at her own voice. “Would you like any biscotti with that?”

“Da,” the elegant man replied. “We’ll each have one.”

“I take sugar in mine,” the youngest, a blond said. “But I will put it in myself.” He was very tall and just as slender. It was completely unfair for so much hotness to be concentrated in such a small space. They looked as different from each other as any three random men could, but they oriented themselves to each other as if they were family.

They chatted to each other while she pulled the shots and steamed the milk. When she passed them over, the two Russians claimed the cappuccinos and the Asian man lifted his Americano and inhaled deeply, sighing in pleasure. They were speaking in Russian to each other, but each made a point to thank her. They sat together, still chatting animatedly.

The elegant man and the Asian gentlemen were clearly a couple, scooting their chairs close together and sharing the occasional kiss. The tall blond grimaced every time, lounging back in his chair. After a little while, all three became engrossed in their phones. If they had only recently arrived, they probably had friends and family back home they needed to contact.

Finally the Asian man put his phone down and tapped the elegant man on his arm. He gestured tiredly at the door and said something Kathleen couldn’t hear. The blond grunted, picked up his coffee cup, and shook it, placing it back on the table with a sigh when he realised it was empty. The elegant man said something with an impish grin, causing his partner and the blond to groan and roll their eyes.

They stood, dropping their cups in the waste bin as they left. The couple held hands, and the blond kept tapping at his phone until they exited the building. It was a busy day and except for the abnormal concentration of hotness, they slipped from her memory.

***

Kathleen didn’t particularly expect to see any of the trio again, but she wasn’t surprised to see them, either. It was a week or so later when the elegant man walked into the library, this time alone. He looked hesitant, she thought, and it didn’t suit him.

When he came to the counter, she tried to put an extra bit of warmth into her voice and smile. For someone who had seemed to confident and relaxed the day before, he gave her a grateful smile that seemed almost absurd. After he ordered and paid for his cappuccino, she rolled over to the coffee machine and deftly ground and pulled his shot and steamed the milk. Placing it on the counter, she sprinkled some cocoa powder on top.

His face was fascinated. “You roll! That’s so fun! I’ve never seen a barista using a rolling stool before! How come I didn’t notice last week?”

Kathleen had to laugh. Most patrons watched her with curiosity out of the corner of their eyes, too shy or embarrassed to say anything. His enthusiasm was an enjoyable change of pace.

She smiled a real smile instead of the customer service smile she usually wore with patrons. “My legs aren’t the steadiest,” she explained. “I’m great at coffee, not so good at walking. So while I’m here, I roll.”

“Wow!” His smile was almost blinding, a charming heart shape. “That’s so creative. I never thought about it, but I guess you don’t really need legs to make coffee. Is it just for a while while you recover from something, or have you always, um, rolled?”

She didn’t get many questions normally. Kathleen laughed again.

“I have CP - cerebral palsy,” she added at his confused look. “I had the cord wrapped around my neck when I was born. The doctors weren’t sure I would survive it, but here I am! Kicking ass, taking names, and brewing the best coffee around, not that I’m biased or anything. I love my coffee and I’m good at it. And the library loves how many patrons I bring in. With my faithful steed Destrier here,” she slapped her chair “I don’t have to worry about spilling my creations.”

He looked a bit startled, and picked up his drink. “I hope I wasn’t being rude,” he said nervously.

“A bit,” Kathleen answered honestly. “But I find it’s easier to be open about it when people are asking at least politely. And I’m in a good mood today. Catch me on a bad day and I might’ve under-brewed your coffee.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologised. Then he took a sip of coffee.

“ _ Vkusno! _ It’s delicious. You really are that good at this!”

Kathleen smiled smugly. “Told you.”

There were no customers in line at the moment, so she decided to ask questions of her own. “What brings you in today? And where are your friends?”

He took another sip. “My name is Victor. I’m on my own today and I didn’t know what else to do. It’s been a busy few weeks. My husband is starting studying at the university so we bought a condo and we’ve been moving in. Yesterday we moved Yura, the grumpy one, into his dorm. He’s starting a program too. Today’s the first day of classes for them both.”

He beamed at her. “My Yuuri is starting his MA. I’m so proud of him! Yura is taking biology - I’m still not sure how my husband talked him into it. I’m so proud of him, too!”

He sighed, and the smile fell off his face. “The problem is that leaves  _ me _ . I haven’t been so on my own for… ever, really.” 

She made a sympathetic sound.

“We just moved. From Russia. I think we told you this before, yes? I always had people to talk to at home to help keep me busy and focused. Here I don’t know anyone but my Yuris and now they’re busy without me.”

“It’ll work out,” she said. “Do you have a job yet? Lots of people make friends at work.”

He brightened a bit. “Yes, I do have that. We bought a business, an ice rink across town, so I’ll have something to do. My husband says it’s just for the convenience for our Yuri to have somewhere to practice, but I know we could have just rented time. He worries that I’ll get into trouble without him and without something to do.”

Kathleen had only barely met Victor, but she suspected his husband might have the right of it. Something about the way he clutched his cappuccino and stood awkwardly at her counter. She wouldn’t be able to name it if someone asked her, but she just had an impression he was better around other people. He’d been so much more self-assured and confident the day before.

“The problem,” he continued, not noticing her moment of consideration, “is that now I have all sorts of paperwork and organising to do, and I’m not sure even my husband realises how bad I am at paperwork. I’m a little scared,” he confessed quietly. “I’m just a coach. I was a very good skater, and now I’m a very good coach to Yura. I’m not sure if I can be in an office all day by myself.”

Well, it was more than she’d expected to hear, but she did have a suggestion. Baristas, in her opinion, were a lot like bartenders as incidental therapists. Uprooted college coach following his athlete? A new situation to her, but not impossible.

“Can you bring your work somewhere with you? I have no idea what’s involved in running an ice rink, but if you can take work with you, why not bring it somewhere like here? There are lots of people who work in coffee shops, trust me. If your husband is a grad student, he’ll be one of them. If he isn’t already. It’s been a whole morning.”

Victor drank the last of his coffee, considering. “That could work. It’s worth trying at least.”

“There you go then”, she answered. “Why don’t you go look around here now that you’re done your coffee?”

He smiled and thanked her. Kathleen watched as he walked off to explore the library some. She lost him somewhere in the cookbook section, and he reappeared again in the children’s area. He gave her a brilliant smile and a wave as he left the building. 

He really did have a nice ass.

***

He was back the following Monday. This time he arrived carrying an expensive-looking briefcase. He ordered the same cappuccino and the same cookie. He worked quietly at his laptop for a couple of hours and came back to the counter to thank her before he left.

He didn’t come in on Tuesday. The next day he came, but a bit later. Same drink, same cookie. On Thursday, the Japanese gentleman she assumed was “my husband” came with him. Victor excitedly introduced him to her. As soon as he got to “figure skater”, the smaller man flushed red.

“Vitya,” he interrupted quickly, “remember, I just want to be a student right now. I don’t want people thinking of me as ‘that figure skater’. I know you’re proud of me, but I need the break from the pressure. “Please?” he added, seeing the disappointed look on his husband’s face. “For me? Just for a while?”

Victor sighed. “I hate when you sell yourself short,  _ zolotse _ . Everyone ought to admire your genius. But I’ll do it to make you happy. What would you like to drink?”

Yuuri smiled. “Thank you, Vitya. I’ll have another cappuccino. The one I had the first time we were here was excellent.”

Victor beamed. “Kathleen is almost as good at making coffee as I was on the ice!” 

Kathleen snorted. “You must have been a superstar. Too bad they don’t give Olympic medals for pulling the perfect espresso.”

He beamed, if it was possible, even brighter. “The only one better than me was my Yuuri!”

“His Yuuri” grabbed his arm and dragged him off to a table with an apology to Kathleen. She watched, amused, as they worked quietly. Yuuri worked quietly, anyway. She noticed that unlike the days when he came alone, he had difficulty keeping his mind on the computer in front of him. His husband gently redirected Victor’s attention back to his computer each time he was tapped on the arm. They worked that way for several hours before packing up and heading out arm-in-arm. Kathleen laughed aloud when she caught Victor checking out his husband’s ass as he bent over to pick up a paper that fell just before they left the library. 

Friday he came in early with a small stack of papers in the arm that wasn’t holding the briefcase. She started pulling his shot as soon as she saw him walk in.

“I think Friday is going to be Invoice Day,” he declared, hefting the papers.

“As good a day as any!” She pulled out his cookie from the display and passed him his tray.

***

Kathleen didn’t work weekends. She went out drinking on Saturday with friends, ranting drunkenly about the hot new regular that was tragically gay and taken. Her friends commiserated but reminded her she could still look, in an aesthetic sort of appreciation.

Sunday was spent nursing the hangover.

***

Monday saw her new favourite Russian returning again. She hadn’t meant for the library cafe to become his de facto office, but it was beginning to look like he’d taken it that way. He was quiet, polite, had a specific but not onerous order, and tipped well. She didn’t mind him. Not that she technically had a say since the library owned everything anyway.

He came in every day that week but Tuesday. He worked quietly. Friday was invoice day. On the days when he worked longer, he ordered a second identical coffee midway. The following week he was in again with the exact same routine. There were many regular cafe patrons, such at the “Moms and Babies” group Monday morning, the knitting circle lunchtime on Wednesday, and the old man who came in on Thursday afternoons, ordered nothing, did the newspaper crossword, and left. Victor was among the more frequent and reliable of them. 

On “Invoice Day”, he drank his coffee and did his paperwork. After he packed up, he came back up to the counter, looking anxious. “I’m sorry if I’m being rude again,” he said, speaking quickly. “I don’t have, um, any choreography for this yet. Do you know who owns the service dog that’s always under the table by your counter? I tried to google but I only found warnings about not petting dogs with jackets, but he is just laying there and it doesn’t look like he’s working right now but I couldn’t find anything about what to do when you don’t know who the owner is and I really, really miss my Makkachin, she was a good poodle and my best friend - well, almost my only friend until I met my Yuuri - for since I was a child and I miss her so much since she died a few months ago. So I really wanted to say hi and not disturb anyone but I don’t know who to ask or what the choreography  _ to  _ ask is.”

He took a breath.

She stared at him.

“Asshole’s my dog,” she finally said. “I thought you realised. Thank you for not bothering him. A lot of patrons used to and he was picking up bad habits, so I started leaving his jacket on. People still try to coax him to play despite the bright jacket saying ‘I’M WORKING’, but at least he’s reminded he’s got a job.”

“Yours?”

“Mine,” she confirmed.

“I’m so sorry.” His face turned bright red. “Yuuri suggested asking you. I’m sorry. I’ll, um, go now.”

“Victor!” she laughed. “I’m not upset. Thank you for asking. He’s not really working right now. If you can wait a few minutes for me to serve the customer behind you, I’ll tidy up, take his jacket off, and introduce you.”

His face was still red but his expression brightened up and he moved to the side. He gave her a huge, brilliant smile. Kathleen had never seen someone’s mouth bend into a heart-shape when they smiled. It suited him.

“ _ Spasibo! _ ”

Kathleen rolled Destrier back over to the till and quickly processed the customer’s order. She gave the cappuccino machine a quick wipe and rinsed the steamer jug. Friday afternoons were quieter and she was thrilled to have an excuse to pay Asshole some attention. Finally she wiped her hands and walked over to her awkward, but charming, patron. Kneeling, she unclipped Asshole’s jacket and took it off him.

“Victor,” she said, “this is Asshole, my stability dog. He’s specially trained to help me keep my balance when I’m walking. He’s more responsive and intelligent than crutches, especially in winter, and  _ way  _ cuter.” She gave her friend a hug and scratched his ears. “Here, you can say hi.”

Victor held out his hand for Asshole to sniff. When the lab looked content with the stranger’s smell, he reached out and stroked his head.

“You named him ‘Asshole’?” He looked at her curiously. “He seems like such a sweetheart. And he’s so patient being here every day!”

Kathleen had to laugh. No matter how many times she told the story, it was still funny. Just one of the many things that made Asshole the  _ best  _ service dog. “I didn’t name him. And technically, on paper, his name is Axel. But the family that did his puppy fostering - you know, house training, socialising, that stuff - had a toddler. She never quite got her mouth around ‘Axel’. And by the time he left them for training, he was the perfect service dog candidate. But he wouldn’t answer to anything but ‘Asshole’. We were assigned to each other fairly early, and I told the trainers not to retrain him with a new name. I love my Asshole the way he is.”

Victor laughed, deep and genuine.

“And such a good Asshole he is!” he cooed, using that tone of voice common to infatuated dog-lovers everywhere. “Yes, a very good Asshole, working so hard and waiting so patiently! Good  _ sobaka _ .” He was ruffling the lab’s ears enthusiastically. Asshole, out of his work uniform, rolled onto his back for a belly rub, which Victor happily provided after a quick glance to Kathleen for permission.

She watched with a smile. Victor was obviously overjoyed to be spending time with her companion, and Asshole seemed to be taking to Victor just as well. He was an extremely well-trained and polite dog, or he wouldn’t have graduated as a service dog, but all his body language pointed to this human being one he was comfortable around.

“Victor,” she interrupted them. 

“Da?” he answered.

“You’ve been in here a lot since you moved.”

He nodded.

“Do you plan to keep up this routine? If you’re going to be here often anyway, maybe you could help me a bit with Asshole?”

His eyes widened and he waited for her to continue.

“He’s a very good boy and knows he has to be on the job when he’s wearing his jacket, even if I’m not needing him for stability right then. I can’t leave him without it here where people might bother him without me right there, and I can’t have him behind the counter for hygiene reasons. But he obviously likes you and if you’re willing to sit with him and send curious patrons over to me, he might be able to relax without his jacket. It’d be a lot more pleasant for him, if you’re willing.”

“Absolutely!” Victor exclaimed. “I’d love to! I love dogs so much, and we couldn’t get one when Makka died. By the time I was ready to consider it, we knew we were moving and it just didn’t seem kind to do that to a puppy. Just being here with him would be so great.”

Kathleen didn’t trust just anyone with Asshole, but she’d be there the entire time to keep an eye on him, and Asshole knew his job. They’d been together for seven years by now. Victor would be more of an Annoying Human deterrent than anything.

“On Monday,” she said, “we can give it a try. How does that sound?”

“Amazing! Thank you so much!” His eyes were wide with excitement, making the blue of his eyes sparkle even more. He was gay and taken, but  _ god  _ was he beautiful to look at.

Victor gave Asshole a final ruffle of his ears. His smile never faded as he stood, gathered his things, and all but danced out the door. 

Returning to Destrier behind the counter, she could see him through the window as he left the building. As soon as he had the clearance, he put his briefcase and papers down and ran a few steps, launching himself into a jump, spinning around. He got better air than she expected. She watched him repeat this three or four times before he collected his belongings and strode out of view.

***

Monday morning, Victor came in at the usual time. Kathleen had expected him to be early in his excitement, but when she teased him about it, he looked upset and apologised. “I have employees for a lot of the rink activities, but I need to be there for coaching Yura in the morning.”

“Victor,” she interrupted. “Victor, it’s alright. I was only teasing you. It’s alright. Asshole is fine. Go sit at a table near the counter and I’ll bring Asshole over in a minute. Or just go sit at his table.”

He nodded and moved off. She had a couple of orders to finish, and then walked out from behind the counter and knelt by her companion. She unclipped Asshole’s jacket. “You’re off duty. Relax,” she said. He huffed quietly and flopped himself out on the floor. She scratched his ears. 

Victor looked at her. “If I do something wrong, please tell me? I still don’t have any choreography for this scripted, and I’m probably going to say or do something wrong. When it’s skating, I know what to say and how to act, but when the situation is unfamiliar I mess up.” He gave her an embarrassed grin. “When I first met my Yuuri, I tried to act how I’d been told people flirt, and I scared him so badly it took  _ months  _ for him to get comfortable with me. I don’t want to make mistakes like that again and make you regret me sitting with your friend.”

She wanted to hear about what he’d done to terrify his eventual husband - it sounded like it could be a good story, if it had made him run away from such an objectively gorgeous human being. But she’d ask another time, maybe, when she wasn’t at work. For now, she just told him “I’ll try. If you need to use the washroom it’s fine to leave him. Just catch my eye if you need to, so I know to pay a bit closer attention.”

“I will,” he promised, and began to unpack his work. 

“Be good, Asshole,” she reminded her companion, who just looked at her.

***

The week went well. Kathleen, Victor, and Asshole quickly settled into a comfortable routine. After a few weeks, the lab began to anticipate his visitor. Victor was very predictable in his routine, and Asshole would begin shifting in his place about fifteen minutes before Victor would come in. When the cafe was busy, she would have to endure Asshole’s silent pleading until she could get away from the counter to unbuckle his jacket. Victor, for his part, waited with calm patience and never asked if he could undo the jacket himself. 

Then one Monday, a few weeks into this routine, she heard a muffled exclamation from their table and turned to see Victor with his hand over his mouth, practically vibrating in his chair in excitement. This would be good.

“Victor!” She waved in his direction. He looked up.

“Interesting email?”

He stood and came over to the counter. “I just got another booking request for the rink. But I know this person! Well, sort of. I know  _ of  _ her. My Yuuri’s mentioned her a lot. The email is from his department’s secretary. It took me a minute to recognise her name, though, since Yuuri says everyone mostly just calls her ‘God’. He says the department would fall apart without her. Anyway, his department wants to schedule a mid-term stress relief event. At the rink!  _ Our  _ rink! Skating!” His grin was huge.

She refrained from asking what else they would do at a skating rink. “That’s exciting!” she said instead.

It means they’ll see my Yuuri skate! He’s so brilliant, Kathleen. He makes music! I coached him after he retired. He disagrees, but  _ I  _ think he’s even better than I was! I can’t wait to see their faces!”

Her smile faded a bit. “Victor,” she said cautiously, “I know I’m probably wrong, but I’ve heard your husband tell you he doesn’t want people in his department knowing he skates. Are you sure he’ll be okay with it?”

“Of course he will! How could he not be? He loves the ice like I do! And he’s made friends already, I’m sure he’d be okay with them knowing. They’ll finally get to see his genius too!”

Kathleen sighed. She wasn’t convinced, but this was ultimately a matter between them. “Just don’t forget to tell him, okay, Victor? The more warning he gets, the more he’ll be able to decide what he wants to do.”

“Yes, of course,” he replied, unconcerned, tracing an elegant wave through the air.

“Don’t forget!” she called after him as he went back to his table smiling. 

***

Kathleen didn’t hear any more about it for another week and a half. That evening, she had come down with a cold. Not wanting to pass it on to any of her customers, and feeling quite awful anyway, she stayed home for a couple of days and the weekend barista came in to cover. He couldn’t stay the full shift, so the cafe closed early on Tuesday and Thursday. 

By Friday she was down to a few sniffles. By then, the issue of the departmental skate was long forgotten. When Victor came in, he practically ran over to her. 

“Kathleen! You’re back!” He all but lept the counter to hug her. “That boy, Simon, who was here while you were gone, could not make my coffee right. Well, it was drinkable. He tried, he really did. But it wasn’t yours. Are you okay? He said you were sick and he wouldn’t give me your address to bring you soup.” 

She passed him his cappuccino and cookie. “Just a cold, Victor. I’ll be fine in a couple days. I’ll relax over the weekend and be back to normal on Monday. I’m sorry your coffee suffered, though it’s nice to know I’m missed when I’m gone. Have a seat with Asshole. I’m sure you’ve missed him. I’ll be over in a minute.”

It wasn’t until the following Thursday that she remembered the issue of the department skating outing.

Victor’s husband was arguing with him as they entered the coffee shop. Victor was looking apologetic.

“Let me guess,” Kathleen said, passing Victor his drink and looking at Yuuri for his order. “He forgot to warn you he took a booking from your department.”

Yuuri huffed. “ _ She _ knows but you forgot to say anything to your own husband. Whose department it is.” He turned to her. “Green tea today, please, bag on the side. I found out in the middle of my study group. Who threatened me if I didn’t say I’d go. I had no excuse to hand. On the spot.”

“Victor, I told you to warn him ASAP! What happened?”

She passed Yuuri a cup of boiling water and a tea bag.

He ducked his head. “I got scared you were right,” he confessed. “I’m not good at remembering to do things that scare me, even though I try. I had to make dinner that night so I started thinking about what I was going to make and what I needed to buy, and by the time I got home, I’d forgotten everything. And then I had to deal with the invoice on Friday but I was so glad to see you back and Asshole there again, and… I forgot. Again. And then the department sent their email before something else reminded me. I’m sorry,  _ zolotse _ ,” he said to his husband. “I really am. I did mean to warn you. But at least you’ll finally be able to show your friends how you skate!”

Yuuri’s expression had softened into plain exasperation. “Alright, Vitya,” he said. “I know. And I know how you handle things like that. I’ll never forget Yura showing up out of the blue at Ice Castle. It’s just you and I knew that when I finally married you. But I still want to be Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, MA student, not Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, figure skater. I have to go, thanks to Robin and especially Mac, but you have to  _ promise  _ me you’ll keep your regular routine and be here instead of at the rink.”

Victor’s face, which had begun to look happier at Yuuri’s forgiveness, fell again.

“But Yuuri,” he whined, “ _ Zolotse _ , I  _ have  _ to be there. I can’t stay away if you’re on the ice! You know that!”

“Vitya, you forgot to warn me, and that happens, I know. I’m not mad anymore. But if you’re there, you won’t be able to keep quiet or pretend I’m just another student. Or even just your husband. You can’t be there.”

Victor looked about to argue further, but Kathleen stepped in. Possibly overstepped in, but it was too late before she thought better of it. “Victor, if you don’t come in here during that skate booking, I’ll never make your coffee again. Sure, I’ll make you a large dark roast Sumatran cappuccino with extra foam. But if you don’t let your husband handle his department by himself, it will never be quite  _ your  _ coffee again.” She shifted on Destrier, afraid she’d ruined their friendship.

They stared at her. Victor’s face was white, contorted in a look of pure horror. Yuuri’s face, on the other hand, shifted from shock, to awe, to delight.

And then he laughed.

He bent double onto the counter and shook in silent hysterics. “Vitya,” he choked. “Vitya, tip her well. She’s brilliant! I could think for a century and not come up with a more effective threat!”

Yuuri turned to her, eyes streaming with tears. “I don’t know how you managed to get his number so thoroughly, but I would make him offer you a job at the rink and pay you triple if we had the clientele to justify it. Nothing I would actually be strong enough to withhold would ever persuade him, but I can tell he’s already rethought the matter. I’m so glad he comes here, and not just because of Asshole.”

Kathleen remembered to breathe again.

“Janet can handle the booking with Rob,” he whispered. “I have paperwork I’ll need to take care of, and I work best here. Katya, can I hug Asshole now?”

She swung down off her chair. “Of course, Victor.” She paused. “Don’t worry. Even if I never made your coffee right again, I would never threaten you with Asshole, you know. He loves you - and the break - too much for me to do that to him. As long as you keep coming in here, I’ll let him sit with you.”

Victor’s shoulders slumped as he relaxed. “Thank you.”

She walked over to their regular table, where Asshole was waiting. She knelt and unclipped his jacket. “There you go, buddy,” she said to him.

Passing Yuuri on the way back to the counter, she winked at him. “I hate being cold. An ice rink would never do me. Besides, the books would miss me.”

“I guess we’ll just have to keep coming in here for drinks, then,” he replied. “Being at an ice rink but stuck in an office is too awful for Victor anyway. He’d rather be here!”

He sat at the table where his husband was sitting on the floor with Asshole. Victor unfolded himself and settled into a chair a careful distance away from Yuuri. Kathleen had never seen Victor so hesitant in his body language. Gently Yuuri reached over and tapped his husband’s shoulder. She couldn’t hear what was murmured between then, but suddenly Victor surged up and into his arms. Yuuri held him close for a minute, and when they parted, Kathleen could see he had regained his equilibrium. Victor scooted his chair closer to Yuuri and reached down to skritch Asshole with his usual smile.

***

A few weeks later, Victor informed her as she was getting ready to put Asshole’s jacket back on him that he would be gone for the rest of the week for a skate event with Yuri. 

“It’s only in Atlanta,” he told the Asshole, kissing the lab’s nose, “so I’ll be back before you miss me! I’ll miss you, though, yes I will! Aren’t you the sweetest doggie? You will keep taking good care of your mama, won’t you?”

Through his babytalk, Kathleen got the impression that her customer was going to miss her dog very much indeed. It took him twice as long as usual to pry himself away and he was looking genuinely forlorn. 

“Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “Asshole is a very smart dog. He’s not going to forget you.”

He looked up. “I wasn’t-”

“Victor, don’t worry. He’ll be fine and he’ll be right here when you get back.”

Asshole  _ boofed  _ quietly as Victor stood, slightly red-faced. “Thank you for letting me sit with him so much, Kathleen. I know he’s very important to you. I’ll be back on Monday. I hope you and Asshole have a good week!”

With that, he grabbed his briefcase and gave her an awkward wave, and was off.

***

When he returned on Monday, he was all smiles and ebullience. He was practically bouncing in place as he waited in line to order. When it was his turn, he burst out “Yura won!”

“Congratulations!” she answered, already making his cappuccino.

“He was wonderful! A little wobbly on his triple axel landing, but nothing serious. I was so proud of him! He has some really great routines this year. We argued so much about the choreography but we eventually came up with two really beautiful programs. Did you see them?” He voice was louder than usual somehow, and she had to wave at him to keep his voice down in the library.

“Sorry,” he apologised, still grinning. “I always get louder when I’m excited. My old coach used to yell at me about it, but he yelled about everything and I never listened much anyway. You should have seen Yura! Why didn’t I tell you to watch, before I left? Well, you can see it on youtube I’m sure.” And he pulled out his phone, evidently intending to show her right that moment.

“Victor!” she laughed. “I have more customers. I’ll have to see it some other time, when it’s quieter. Go on, have a seat. Asshole has been missing you.”

As soon as the queue cleared, she went over to the table and let her companion have his break. Victor was about the show her Yuri’s performance when she was called back to the counter. “I promise I’ll see it soon!” she called.

Somehow she never managed to find a chance that day. With the weather turning cooler and mid-terms in full swing, the cafe was busier than usual. The following day was the same, and Victor and Asshole had to wait nearly a half hour before she could escape for the handful of minutes it took to take Asshole off active duty. Wednesday was the same.

Thursday… got weird.

Kathleen was pulling the shot for Victor’s cappuccino when a woman in a black dress walked in. She had dark, chin-length hair, huge sunglasses, and a hat straight out of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Kathleen double-checked to make sure she wasn’t holding a cigarette stem. Asshole sat up alertly.

When the woman got to the counter, her mouth curved into a familiar, heart-shaped smile.

“Victor?” she asked hesitantly.

The smile drooped. “How did you know it was me?” he asked. “I  _ know  _ I look nothing like my normal self. I’m a gorgeous woman. I’ve used this disguise before to escape the press.”

She passed him his cup and cookie. “Your smile gave you away. No one else smiles at the barista like that. But until you did that,” she offered in consolation, “I had no idea.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the brim of the hat bobbing up and down. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“Go sit with your drink. When I get a break, I’ll come and let Asshole relax and you can tell me about the special occasion.”

He went and sat down by Asshole, who didn’t seem to be confused in the slightest by his new friend’s disguise. Victor sat elegantly with his legs crossed, and nibbled at his cookie, being mindful of his lipstick.

When the line finally cleared, she went and sat down beside Victor. “Alright, Victor-”

“Polina,” he interrupted.

“Okay. Polina. What’s going on? I don’t see any press trailing you here.”

“Of course not,” he said haughtily. “It’s a  _ good  _ disguise. But actually I’m not hiding from the press. Yura went out to dinner with some friends last night and while he was out he spotted one of his stalkers.”

“Stalkers?!” she exclaimed.

“Shhh. Yes. He has these online stalkers, they mob him if they find him. Part of the reason we’re here is that it seemed like a quiet city for Yuri and him to attend school and train. He panicked at the restaurant, and we think his friends covered for him when he bolted. But we’re not sure yet if he was seen, so he’s staying with my husband right now. But someone still have to keep the rink running, so I came out. I just didn’t want to risk being seen either. If they see me, they’ll know for sure he’s around here somewhere.”

Kathleen just listened, slightly agape. She was having trouble processing this download of information. 

“Okay,” she said finally, “a disguise I understand. I guess. But why  _ this  _ disguise? Why are you, uh, Polina?”

He smiled his giveaway smile happily from where he was bent over ruffling Asshole’s ears. “Because it works! And because I haven’t worn it in a long time and I thought it would be fun! When I was a teenager I went through a phase of blurring the lines between male and female. I also hated the press, so I thought it would be the perfect joke to play on them! I never got caught, and I always felt pretty and glamorous.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you definitely capture the glamorous, and I have to say you make a pretty enough woman.”  _ His ass looks just as good in a dress _ , she thought to herself.

He smiled smugly. “My husband thinks so too. It’s always a good night when he comes home and I’m wearing this dress and pearls. If I’m ever walking funny some morning, it was probably Pretty Polina night the night before.”

Kathleen was distracted from her own sudden, wild imagination by a choking sound coming from another table. Another regular, who was usually there with the Wednesday morning knitting circle, was coughing and banging on her chest with her fist. Catching Kathleen’s eye, she just flapped a hand weakly in Victor’s direction. The barista nodded in understanding.  A fine spray of liquid across the table suggested she’d just been taking a drink when she overheard Victor’s confession.

Kathleen coughed again. “Well, Polina, just, uh, keep an eye on Asshole like usual, right? I’ll be here if you need me.”

He motioned her close. “If you see someone come in wearing cat ears or a tattoo of a figure skate, pretend to not know me?” Victor’s voice was actually quiet for once, and his eyes behind the sunglasses were serious. “I really want Yura to stay safe. His fans are really something else.”

“Wait, I thought you said they were stalkers?”

“They’re both. They get so excited about spotting him it can look like a small riot. The ISU keeps having to hire extra security for his competitions. At first they tried to pass the expense on to him, but our old coach, Yakov, yelled at them until they backed down. It’s not Yura’s fault his fans are so unruly.”

Kathleen was beginning to realise that Victor, his husband, and Yuri were more famous than she’d originally thought. Living in a university town meant there were always student athletes around. Most of them, those who didn’t play football, had a handful of local fans, and she’d assumed Yuri was one of them: a dime-a-dozen student athlete on a scholarship who might make it to nationals if he was lucky but would eventually find a “real job” once he graduated.

The description of stalker-fans who caused riots didn’t fit that picture.

She wanted to ask Victor for more details, but if it was really that dangerous, it probably wasn’t the best time. Maybe sometime when the cafe was empty except for him. It didn’t happen often, but it would be safer to wait.

She assured Victor she would be careful, and headed back to her counter to think things over.

The following day, “Polina” came in to take care of the invoices for the ice rink. “Her” dress was low-cut and red and reminded Kathleen of her Battlestar Galactica fangirl days. 

Her face was also the grumpiest Kathleen had ever seen on her.

“Yuuri was too self-conscious with Yura staying with us. Pretty Polina slept chastely beside her husband last night.”

Wordlessly she patted the hand on the counter and slid a second cookie onto the plate beside the first. She’d be grumpy too.

“He’ll be going back to his dorm soon, right? No one’s found him?”

Victor sighed. “Not for another couple nights. But I plan to remind my husband  _ every day _ what he’s missing. I’m going shopping as soon as I get these invoices done. Apparently there’s a small lingerie store about a half-hour from here on the freeway. We’ll see just how long his embarrassment lasts, ha.”

Kathleen said a silent prayer for Yuuri, who would need the willpower of cold stone if he was going to last the weekend.

When Victor didn’t come in on Monday, she lifted a coffee in a toast to his ass.

****

Then, a couple weeks later, came a Thursday when Victor didn’t come in and hadn’t warned her. He wasn’t in on Friday either, and when he didn’t come in on Monday, she was very concerned. By Tuesday, she was wondering why she hadn’t gotten his phone number yet. (Because he was just a customer, because it would have been weird to ask, a hundred good reasons, but it didn’t stop her cursing her past self. Perhaps she could call all the ice rinks in the city until she found one that recognised his description.) 

She didn’t have to, in the end. On Wednesday, finally, the door to the library slammed open. Asshole sat up with a quiet  _ boof _ .

In walked Victor. Staggered, really. He was almost as unsteady as she was without Asshole. He wasn’t dressed in his usual impeccably tailored suits. His outfit was certainly  _ tailored _ , there was no way it couldn’t be, but it wasn’t a suit. He was dressed from his collar to his shoes in a lacy, blue bodysuit. By one shoulder it was a pale grey-blue, but it deepened as it went down his body to almost navy at his opposite foot. Rhinestones swirled across his front and over his hip, and a larger concentration of them decorated his crotch. The long sleeves ended seamlessly in gloves covering his elegant fingers. His arm was in a sling. 

“Chay!” he exclaimed. “Wait. Tea. Yuuri says to remember to please speak English. Tea! I want tea, please. Black tea. I guess you maybe only have orange pekoe because  _ America _ . And jam. I’m here to do work. But Yuuri took away my laptop. He took away my shirts, too, but he forgot my costumes, ha!”

He paused for a breath and before he could continue, Kathleen broke in. “Would English Breakfast be okay, Victor. And… are  _ you  _ okay? You seem a bit  _ off  _ today.” 

Victor leaned in close over the counter and whispered loudly in her ear. “I’m  _ really high _ .” He leaned back. “English Breakfast will do. Russian Caravan would be better but at least it’s not orange pekoe.” He shuddered dramatically.

“Victor,” Kathleen asked hesitantly, “ _ why _ are you high?”

He lifted the arm in the sling and winced a bit. “Oops. I’m probably not supposed to do that.”

“Probably not.”

“I fell yesterday. No. Last week. I feel last week trying to show Yurio a quad flip. He can do them, of course, he’s my fierce tiger, but he’s getting sloppy and I was the best and I miss it. I wanted to show him.”

Victor leaned in again and this time she sat forward to meet him.

“But that’s my excuse to my Yuuri. I just miss them and made up an excuse. Don’t tell my Yuuri!” He put a lacy finger to his lips. When I was little I had no way to make my body do the correct thing. I would spin in circles because I was happy and it felt right, but then mama told me I had to stop, big kids don’t spin. I never understood why not. Spinning is fun and feels good and doesn’t hurt anyone. Why can’t adults and big kids spin, Kathlaine? Kalheen. Kanathamaleen.  _ Katya _ .”

She had to laugh. “I really don’t know, Victor. But you can keep calling me Katya if you want. I like it. Give me a second to make your tea, alright?”

He leaned back again but kept talking while she worked. “My mom signed me up for skating lessons when I was three. I’m from Russia! You have to skate if you’re Rusian, I think it’s the law. I didn’t like it much. Ice is  _ cold  _ when you fall on it. But then one day she was watching figure skating on television and I saw a Canadian, Elvis Stojko, and  _ he  _ was allowed to spin! In the  _ air _ , even! My mom told me he would win a medal for it. I didn’t care, I just wanted to spin in the air like he did. So I begged for more skating lessons so I could skate like Elvis.”

She put his tea in front of him and added a couple packets of jam beside it.

“I hope strawberry is okay because it’s all I’ve got,” Kathleen - no, Katya - told him. “And here’s your cookie.”

Victor peeled open the jam and dumped both into his tea, then passed the empty packets back to her. He looked around, then down into his cup, then around again. “Can I have…  _ govno _ . The thing that is not a fork or a knife, and you stir with it? That thing.” Katya passed him a spoon. She’d been a barista for a decade or more, ever since she’d supplemented her modest scholarship with a part-time job, but jam in tea was a new one.

When she took it back, she asked, “Victor, can you give me your husband’s phone number? He might be missing you.”

“Noooooo,” he whined, giving her the most ridiculous pleading look she’d ever seen aside from on Asshole. “Not my Yuuri, he told me to stay home! He might  _ sigh  _ at me! He might even  _ shake his head _ .”

“Alright,” Katya tried to soothe him, thinking fast. “Is there someone else I can call for you? I don’t think you should be alone right now and I have to stay here for the customers.”

“I’m not alone - you’re here,” he said brightly.

“Yes. But I can’t leave here and what if you need something. How about your other Yuri? The blond one.”

“Yes, Katya! Call Yurio! He needs to come meet Asshole! I really love your dog. Thank you for letting me spend time with him. He’s a good dog, not an asshole at all. I love him very much.”

The babbling ceased briefly as he took a sip of his tea. He made contented sounds, seeming to forget where he was.

“Victor?” she prompted. “His phone number?”

He rattled off a string of digits. Katya found herself in a slight predicament. The phone was at the other end of the counter, she had a customer waiting patiently, and she wasn’t certain Victor would still be there if she took her attention off of him for more than thirty seconds.

The waiting customer waved at her. A slight, middle-aged woman with curly blond hair, she was part of the weekly knitting group.

“Kathleen, how about this nice young man comes and sits with us? He’s looking not quite himself and I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re going to call his friend to, ah, come join him. He might be bored until his friend arrives. Victor, would you like to come sit with us knitters?”

Katya flashed her a grateful look. “What a great idea! Victor, why don’t you go sit with Leonie and her friends while I call Yuri, and then I’ll bring Asshole over to join you. How does that sound?”

It was with profound relief that she watched him sit with the women in the group. She  _ really  _ hoped they had enough awareness of Victor’s current state to not give him anything sharp or pointy. Quickly she slid over to the phone and dialled the number he’d given her.

“ _ Da? _ ” a voice answered.

“Hi,” she said. “My name’s Kathleen, I’m the barista at the Boullard St. library cafe. I have an extremely high Russian here, name of Victor. Since apparently his husband hid his clothes, I’m guessing he’s not supposed to be out and around right now.  I really hope I’ve gotten hold of the correct person. If you are Yuri, are you able to come and collect him? He refuses to give me his husband’s phone number.”

She held the phone away from her ear as the Yuri on the other end shouted loud Russian profanities. Finally he quieted down and asked in a tone full of dread: “He’s naked, isn’t he?”

Katya laughed. “No, although the knitting group and I wouldn’t object if he was, I’m sure. He’s dressed in some sort of blue lace onesie. He says his husband forgot to hide his costumes.”

“ _ Slava Bogu!  _ I don’t suppose he remembered his sling?”

“He did! Should he be proud?”

“No, he shouldn’t be proud of anything, that  _ mudak _ ! And he gave you  _ my  _ number.” He sounded resigned and deeply disgusted.

“He’s afraid of his husband. He says his Yuuri will sigh at him.” Katya couldn’t keep the amusement from her voice.

Yuri snorted and muttered something probably unkind in Russian. “Katsudon will do more than that! He  _ should _ be afraid! I guess he’s not as high as he was when I saw him on Monday.”

“He was  _ worse _ ?” she asked, impressed.

“He’s wearing clothes he put on by himself, he’s not stripping, and he knows enough to be afraid of Katsudon’s reaction. He’s completely sober by comparison.”

Katya took a moment of silence to mourn Victor’s relative sobriety and propriety.

“He’s sitting with the knitting group that meets,” she told the younger Russian, glancing over at the table where he was happily chatting with the ladies there. “He seems happy. I shouldn’t have trouble keeping him here.”

“ _ Spasibo _ . Alright. I’ll be over as soon as I can.” And he hung up.

She dismounted Destrier, heading over to the table where the intoxicated Russian was holding a hank of yarn stretched between the hand and elbow of his uninjured arm. A fat woman in a wheelchair was balling yarn from the hank and laughing with Leonie. Katya called quietly to Asshole, who padded over. 

She settled him in beside Victor. Checking that the knitting group would hang on to Victor and alert her if he tried to leave, the barista whispered a quiet thanks to Leonie and then took orders for everyone at the table. 

Victor sat and happily chatted with the knitters until an exasperated blond in a tiger hoodie entered the cafe.

“Yurio!” he shouted, standing up and flinging his arms wide, narrowly missing the woman in the wheelchair. “Come meet my new friends! Jo is explaining how different sheep and animals make different wools for different projects! And Sarah is making a sweater for Christmas with reindeer on it! I told them you like cats and they say there’s a book here at the library about knitting with cat fur! They say anyone can learn and they'll teach me if I want!”

“Oh my  _ god _ , old man,” Yuri hissed. “Didn’t you think for half a second that Katsudon hid your clothes for a  _ reason _ ? And if you had to go out anyway couldn’t you find anything better than your ridiculous 2007 ‘Walking In the Air’ costume?”

“He’s been lovely,” Jo assured the angry young man. “We quite appreciate his outfit.” She grinned.

“Gross,” he muttered. “But at least you kept him here. If he’d wandered off, I’d have had to call his husband, and it’s probably easier on all of us if he doesn’t find out.”

Katya watched as Victor threw his arm around his student.

“Yurio, you understaaaand!” he wailed dramatically.

“Yes, you embarrassing old man, I know what Katsudon is like, and I have no desire for him to take his irritation out on me on the ice until you recover. Let’s go. I should be able to get you home and hide the costume before he gets home, if you cooperate.”

“If he knew I was here with my new knitting friends it would be  _ baaah _ d!”

The blond froze. “ _ Poshyel k chyertu, perdoon stary _ . I hate you so much.”

“I’m just espresso-ing myself.”

Kathleen watched as Yuri ground his teeth in frustration.

He began to drag Victor to the door, who was waving cheerfully to all his new friends. Then a thought seemed to occur to Yuri and he changed course, dragging Victor over to the counter. 

“Let me guess,” he sighed. “He forgot his wallet, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Katya grinned. “He totally did. But for the entertainment, I’m willing to spot him the cup of tea and two jam packets. We don’t usually get this sort of quality show in here.”

The young man grimaced. “Can I pay you to keep it off social media? Otherwise it’s not just his husband who’ll be furious. And - did you see him in his insane ‘undercover’ disguise? He might be crazy but my stalkers are real and I can’t afford that.”

She held up a hand. “I wouldn’t humiliate a patron like that. The librarians feel similar, and I think they even might have a privacy code of some sort? I’ll ask them. And I’ll have a word with the knitting ladies - they’re a really nice group, I can’t see them causing you trouble if I explain. Just get him home. And, uh, maybe suggest to Yuuri somehow that he hide the costumes too. Just in case.”

“Thank you.” He nodded. “Let’s go now, old man.”

And that was the last she saw of Victor’s Nightwish persona.

***

It was nearly another week until Victor returned. When he did, it was with his normal suit, a sheepish expression, and a very large bag.

“I'm sorry about last week,” he said in a rush when her got to the counter. “I react really strongly to painkillers and I wasn't myself. I hope I didn't make anyone uncomfortable. I… don't remember a lot, but I know I was here. Yura made sure I knew that. I'm sorry, Kathleen.”

“Katya,” she corrected with a smile. “I like the name you gave me. It was different from the usual Wednesday here and you might not have been your usual self, but you were not a problem. The knitters were thrilled to meet you properly.”

“I need to go apologise to them too. I brought them a thank-you present.” And he hefted the bag of yarn.”

“Victor, I know they didn't mind. They had so much fun with you. Leonie was in yesterday and she told me she hoped you'd be in. They usually meet at noon. Let me get your drink and come let Asshole relax. He's been giving me accusing looks while you've been gone.”

He looked stricken. 

“I'm joking, Victor! He's fine! I promise, he's been okay. But I know he'll be happy to see you.”

Quickly she made the cappuccino and passed it over. He went and sat down, and she could tell he was dying to reach down and greet the lab, but he refrained. She reflected as she walked over to them that she'd picked the right person to trust with her best friend. Never once had he pushed the boundaries and always erred on the side of respect for her relationship with her service dog.

When she unclipped Asshole’s jacket and told him he was off-duty, he stood up and rested his snout on Victor’s leg, shifting his eyes between the two humans. Victor gasped in delight and quickly looked at her for permission. 

“He’s missed you! Go on, reassure him!”

His eyes shone as he bent over to hug her friend. His friend now, too. Asshole sat himself down and kept his snout where it was as she left them to return to her post. They stayed that way together until the first of the knitters arrived and came over to greet Victor before even ordering.

He stood, dislodging Asshole, an apologetic expression on his face. Before he could say anything, Leonie held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you again! I’m Leonie. We really enjoyed having you sit with us last week! I hope you’re feeling better?”

Victor stared at her for a long moment before he seemed to remember that he should offer his own hand. They shook.

“I’m Victor. I  _ am  _ very sorry you saw me like that, but I’m really grateful you helped take care of me until Yura could pick me up. When everyone is here, could I join you again? I have a thank-you for everyone.” He paused. “If it’s okay with, um, Katya. I don’t want to hurt Asshole’s feelings.”

Katya smiled. His ass was still a great ass and worth admiration, but his thoughtful respect for her and her boundaries with Asshole was quickly becoming his most endearing trait. He was really a sweetheart.

“Victor!” she called over. “It’s fine! When you head over that way just let me know and I’ll bring Asshole over as soon as I’m free. I can still see you all from back here, and I trust you to remember not to offer him food. 

Leonie smiled over at her. “We’ll be good, I promise!” She turned to Victor. “Hang on, let me go order my hot chocolate and I’ll come sit with you until someone else gets here.”

It wasn’t long until the rest of the knitters had gathered and she was bringing Asshole over to sit with them. Victor stood as they approached. 

“Thanks to you all, again. I was really not myself and I could have made my injury much, much worse. I got you all something to thank you for your kindness and patience. Please, let me do this? I looked online and lots of knitters talk about the yarns they like. And it was something I knew you’d all probably like too. So I got you each some yarn I thought was pretty. I don’t know what it’s like to knit with, but I know I love how my silk-merino blend sweaters feel, so I got that.” He hefted the bag he’d brought as they all stared. He began to pull out hank after hank of yarn, in a variety of colours. “Please, take some that you like. I don’t know how much yarn you need to make something, so I got a lot.”

“Katya,” he said, turning to her. “I don’t know what you might like. I wish I did. So if you’d let me, I’d love to take you out for a nice dinner. Just as friends. Please? I’d really like to thank you for all your kindness since we moved here.”

He shuffled awkwardly and gave them all a hopeful smile. “Just… please no one tell my husband I was here last week?”

***

A couple of weeks later, Victor had mastered basic stitches and was on his way to the world’s most expensive hideous scarf. When Josie had brought up the beautiful rosewood needles she’d seen somewhere, nothing would do but that Victor order himself a pair on the spot to replace his basic metal pair. Only a large amount of protesting from the entire group had stopped him buying them all a pair. He still did his administrative work for the rink, but Wednesday lunches were devoted to a new hobby. Victor declared it “soothing”.

Katya got to see another side of Victor when he was in on Wednesdays. He relaxed more and his gorgeous heart-shaped smile practically never left his face. They had yet to pick a date to have dinner, but she wasn’t in a rush. 

One Monday he came in much later than expected, and his husband and his student came in with him. 

“Katya!” he exclaimed, reaching the counter. “I forgot to tell you on Friday! I’ll be away this week with Yura for the Trophée de France! Could I get two cappuccinos to go this time, and an Americano for my Yuuri? He’s taking us to the airport. You should watch the competition online, I’ll send you the link to the stream if you don’t mind giving me your number!”

She paused as his words registered, paper cups in hand. “France?”

“Of course France! Where else would the Trophée de France be?” Victor looked a little confused.

“Yura is competing internationally?”

The youngest man rolled his eyes. “First Katsudon, now you. I swear.  _ My  _ friends don’t even know I  _ skate _ . You two are the  _ worst  _ at keeping a low profile. Yes, I compete internationally. After I win this competition, I will be going to the Grand Prix Finals of figure skating. And I’m going to win there too. Now that these two losers have retired, I’m the best in the world.”

From most people, she would have suspected boasting. His tone, however, was so matter of fact she couldn’t bring herself to doubt him. Victor was nodding proudly.

“I..  I’m sorry,” she stuttered, prepping their order. “I thought you were just, you know, another college athlete. Here’s your Americano, Yuuri.”

“Ha!” Victor was beaming. “He was an international champion when he was just 15! He even beat  _ me  _ once! He even beat my Yuuri!”

“You… were also international competitors?”

Yuuri smiled fondly. “Vitya retired to coach me just as Yura entered the senior circuit. He returned to skating and competed for another season and a half before retiring for good. He’s a legend in the skating world.”

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed. “You are a legend too! Until Yura masters the quad axel, you’re still the only skater to have landed it in competition!” His husband blushed.

“This is getting sappy, old man. We have a plane to catch.”

“Better  _ latté  _ than never!”

“Katsudon,” Yuri said, “I’ll be in the car. I’m going to be spending the week with his dad jokes, I don’t need to start early.” And he turned and walked out.

Victor was unfazed. “I’m going to go say bye to Asshole.”

Katya’s head was whirling a bit. “We get so many athletes coming and going, I never stopped to think that maybe you all were beyond the usual college level. I’m sorry, Yuuri. Here’s your drinks.”

He waved a hand at her. “We wanted to keep a low profile, both because of Yura’s stalkers and just for a change of pace. Don’t worry about it.”

A question burned in her brain and it escaped her mouth before she could stop it. “Is that why he’s got such an amazing ass? OH. Ohmygod. I’m so sorry. That was really inappropriate. Please forgive me, Yuuri, he’s your husband and I shouldn’t have-”

“Yep.”

Her mouth snapped shut.

“It’s pretty spectacular, isn’t it? I had some posters when I was a fan and I spent a lot of time, uh, considering that ass. You need some serious muscle to get the air needed for advanced jumps, and Victor was the best.”

_ Oh my god _ , her brain screamed again. At least her mouth had the sense to stay shut.

Victor returned to the counter and she hoped he couldn’t tell why she was so red in the face. “Good luck, Victor,” she managed.

“Vitya,” he corrected.

“Pardon?”

“Vitya. Call me Vitya. Since I gave you a pet name, you should have one for me. ‘Victor’ is for fans and skating officials. I hope we’re friends now.”

She nodded. “Of course! I mean, I hope so too.”

“Then call me Vitya. I was afraid, moving here, that I would be lonely with my husband and my Yura so busy. You and the knitting ladies treat me like just a friend, and you never even knew who I was! Thank you. And,” he grinned, “according to Asshole, the  _ lab results _ came back positive.”

Yuuri put the coffees back down on the corner and covered his face with a groan.

Katya dismounted Destrier and lurched around the counter to where he stood.

“ _ Vitya _ ,” she said, looking up into his eyes. “You know that’s  _ grounds  _ for divorce, right?” And she hugged him tightly. “Good luck over there.”

Yuuri groaned again, loudly. Vitya gave her the biggest grin she’d seen yet, even bigger than when he met Asshole the first time. She was crushed to him in a long hug.

When he let her go, she brushed at her eyes, teary for reasons she didn’t fully understand. “I’ll let the knitting ladies know where you are and I’ll share the link to the stream with them. I’m sure they’ll be excited! Here’s my number. Now go on, you don’t want to miss your flight, I’m sure Yuri would be furious.”

Vitya pocketed the scrap of paper and they waved to her as the left. Ten minutes later, she felt a buzz in her pocket and pulled out her phone to find the promised link and asking if she’d be free for dinner the Saturday after the Trophée. She looked forward to finishing her shift so she could go home and see what she’d been missing about the sweet man with the great ass.

***

Late in the night, she watched as Yuri came in second to a Canadian skater. The look on his face told her there was probably going to be an increase in Victor’s coffee consumption before the Finals.

She’d be ready.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Even though I tagged it, I didn't state it outright in the fic so I want to here in the notes: in this AU, Victor is autistic. Thank you to my amazing beta readers who provided invaluable feedback. Any criticisms can please be kept to to their owners. (Unless you yourself are autistic, in which case please just be kind and keep in mind my betas' experiences may differ from yours.)
> 
> I tried to not grotesquely misrepresent how service dogs are supposed to be treated, but I did stretch things a little for Plot. 
> 
> As always, thanks to my wife for helping when my plot got stuck as it ever does. You're amazing.
> 
> [Megs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/14mjohnson/pseuds/14mjohnson), thank you for some essential last-minute puns! I owe you a _makka_ chino!


End file.
